


Drowning - Carson series

by writehard_whumpharder



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blacking Out, Carson Hall - Freeform, Carson series, Depression, Drinking, Drug Abuse, Hangover, Headaches & Migraines, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Magic, Mental Illness, Passing Out, Suicidal Thoughts, TW mental illness, Vomiting, Whump, drunk, gotta be thorough, mental health, sick, tagging is so much work, trigger warning, tw depression, tw drug use, tw suicide, young carson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25605517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writehard_whumpharder/pseuds/writehard_whumpharder
Summary: This takes place a few weeks after "Giving Up", (he is 16 and a junior in high school). Carson is in a very dark place and thus willing to take all kinds of risks. After getting fucked up on pills and liquor, Carson finds himself staring down into the school swimming pool... TRIGGER WARNINGS, READ TAGS
Kudos: 2





	Drowning - Carson series

_**Trigger Warnings**_ for mental illness, depression, substance abuse, self harming behaviors

It was a bad night, not bad like all the other nights where he stares up at his ceiling contemplating his existence until the sun rose. No, tonight was a  _ bad _ night.  Vodka splashed around in the glass bottle dangling from his wrist. There was considerably less in it than there was when he left the house. Speaking of which, why did he leave the house? He must have blacked out the entire 15 minute walk because now he was staring into the cold, dimly lit water of the school swimming pool with no memory of how he got there.

"What the fuck?" He asked himself, looking around. The pool seemed to be empty. Of course it was, it was 4am. Carson was just glad someone thought to leave the pool lights on at night, probably a safety thing so no drunk idiots like himself stumble into it by mistake. His cheeks felt a little hot from all the alcohol. Maybe a quick dip would be refreshing…  Normally Carson would know that breaking into the school in the middle of the night to swim in the pool while drunk and high on xanax was a bad idea. But that night he was just too fucked up to care. So what if he got caught? So what if he passed out and drowned? What difference did it make when he was already dead inside? 

Kicking off his shoes, Carson nearly lost his balance and slipped on the tile. It wasn't necessary to kick them off so aggressively but he wasn't satisfied if there wasn't a loud thump when each one landed. The sound echoed around the open room reminding him how alone he was. So totally alone. Luckily he remembered to take off his hoodie before falling into the pool. Otherwise his phone, and more importantly, his leftover pills, would get wet and go to waste. 

At first the shock of the cold water was almost enough to sober him up but the feeling didn't last long. After a few minutes it even started to feel warm to him. They say you can't feel cold as well after drinking. That's why college students die from passing out in snow banks after leaving parties. They can't even feel the hypothermia slowing killing them. In his mind the water felt a little like that but he knew in reality it was at least 80⁰ and completely safe.  Having to move his legs to keep his head above water quickly grew exhausting and he had to grab onto the floating divider between swim lanes. It offered a welcome reprieve but without the task of swimming for his survival he felt his mind quickly going blank. Maybe he shouldn't have taken all that xanax... That was his last thought before everything went dark.

\---

"Oh my god."

"Is he dead?" 

"What the hell? They're gonna have to clean the pool again now that he's been in it."

"Be a little sensitive Lin, there's a dead body in front of you. Do you feel nothing?"

"Maybe he's just sleeping?" She responded.

"Face down in the pool? I don't think so!"

"Calm down. Shouldn't someone grab a teacher or something?" The girls chatted with each other, trying to figure out what to do about the situation at hand. While they didn't show it, the scene was terrifying to stumble upon. Clothes and shoes were scattered across the tile as well as an empty bottle of some kind of liquor. No one particularly liked Carson, but still, they never wanted to see  _ this _ .

"That's it. I'm calling for help," Andrea declared. She turned towards the locker rooms where all their phones were but stopped in her tracks at the sound of gasping. Everyone jumped away from the edge of the pool in surprise.

Life slowly returned to Carson's body as he came to, still draped over the lane divider. He sputtered and pushed his wet hair out of his face to get a look at where he was. Alarm bells rang in his head. Why was he wet? The night was a total blur. If he wasn't still in the pool he would have forgotten that he ever went in in the first place.  The girls were silent as they watched him catch his breath and look around like a zombie back from the dead. His lips were blue from the cold and his hands shook where they gripped the string of buoys.  _ I should probably get out now.  _ Swimming to the edge of the pool took all his remaining energy so by the time he was gripping the edge he didn't have the strength to pull himself up. Getting stuck in the fucking pool, too weak to get out, was certainly a new low for him. If he was aware of the six girls watching him he would have been embarrassed by the way his skinny arms trembled as he pulled himself up. On the fourth try he managed to get a leg up on the edge and awkwardly roll out of the water. God, this was his life now.

"Um, hello?" A girl asked.

Carson's eyes snapped open at the voice.

"Shhhhh. Do you have to yell?" He asked breathlessly.

"It's 7am, the pool is reserved for the girl's swim team. Finish up whatever the hell you were doing and get out okay? We need to practice." Her voice was snobby and impatient. It rubbed him the wrong way.

"What if I'm not done swimming?" He challenged. 

Andrea pressed her mouth into a line and bit her tongue. She wanted to say she'd make him leave but it was common knowledge that you couldn't make Carson Hall do anything he didn't want to do. The awkward silence was interrupted by a muffled ringing that Carson recognized to be his phone. It was still in his hoodie discarded by where the girls were standing. As he got to his feet he realized how exposed he felt. Despite being fully dressed, the way his wet clothes clung to his body revealed just how thin he was now. For each lumbering step he took forward the girls took an equal step back. It wasn't until one of his wet socks slipped out from under him, sending him crashing into the floor that he realized he was in fact, still wasted. He managed to catch himself at the last second and crawl the remaining five feet to his sweatshirt, answering his phone on the final ring.

"Hello?" 

"Carson! Where the hell are you? I just came to wake you up for school to find your bed empty and the window open." His mom sounded mad but he detected a hint of relief too. He groaned and had to pull the phone away from his ear for a second.

"It just so happens I'm already at the school," he laughed.

"I know you didn't leave early. You were out all night weren't you?" 

"Just... part of the night. Early morning really. I went for a walk." 

"Carson, I can't take much more of this. I was so worried something bad happened to you." 

Her voice broke.  _ Something like almost drowning in the pool? _

"Well I'm fine, I'm gonna come home and change. Can you pick me up?" He asked.

"Okay, I'll be there in 10 minutes. You better have a good explanation."

"I don't." He hung up. Andrea took it upon herself to pick up his shoes and hurl them at him. 

It wouldn't be that strange to walk out of the school in the morning. Walking out soaking wet though was harder to explain. He considered drying his clothes with magic but that was too much work. He did however steam the water out of his socks because putting sneakers on over wet socks is a crime, and Carson would  _ never _ commit a crime.

The vodka bottle caught his eye as the one thing he had yet to claim. If anyone else walked in and saw him holding it that would be considered possession but now that all the lights were on he saw that there was a sip or two left in the bottom and it would be a shame to waste it. Perfectly aware that the girls were still watching him, he emptied the bottle and tossed it into the nearest trash can before exiting through the side door.

Sunlight assaulted his eyes. If he wasn't still drunk he'd have the worst hangover of his life. But no, he was saving that joyful experience for later that day. Judging by the tension building at his temples he had until noon before the migraine became debilitating. 

The red beaten up Jeep his mom drove pulled up to the curb just as he made it over the hill to the parking lot. The window rolled down and she honked three times to express her anger.

"Hurry up and get the car!" She demanded. Carson rubbed at his head and shamefully slid into the passenger seat, clutching his sweatshirt in his hand. "You're wet."

"I know."

"You're getting my seats wet."

" _ You _ told me to get in the car." He countered.

She huffed, "You can explain yourself on the ride home."

The car jolted forward and so did Carson's stomach. He let her get a little farther away from the school before telling her to pull over. "Stop, stop, stop.”

His mom stopped the car abruptly which only made him feel a thousand times worse. Carson had just enough time to throw the door open and crawl onto the grass before vomiting any and all fluids left in his body.

"Oh, honey," his mom said, cringing a little with sympathy. Once he was done he wordlessly climbed back into the car and stared out the window.

"You were drinking." She said. It was a statement, not a question. 

"Mhmm."

"I don't know what to tell you that I haven't already said a million times. I know you're struggling. High school is hard enough as it is without all your additional problems. I don't blame you for being depressed, I really don't. But we need to work on this. I made an appointment for you..."

"Shut up!" Carson screamed. "I'm not going to any doctors! They probably won't even help me if they know what I am."

"Who, not what." She corrected.

"Fuck it. Fuck everything! I'm tired of it. I'm tired of this town. Magic isn't even worth all this. Why couldn't I have just been a normal kid..." he broke off into sobs. Behind her sunglasses his mom started tearing up too. 

"In another year you'll go off to college, have a fresh start. Just wait until then." The jeep turned into the driveway and his mom pulled the key out of the ignition.

"It's useless." He said, shivering.

"That's not true." She insisted. But it was to him. Carson had tried so hard to self destruct but he was never satisfied. Being a soul magician his body would heal itself whether he liked it or not. The magic running through his veins had a stronger will to survive than he did. If he slit his wrists, they'd heal themselves. If he drowned, his body would do everything it could to keep his lungs clear and his heart beating. If he jumped off a building his magic would either catch him or heal any life threatening injuries. Whatever he did his magic could just as easily undo. That taught Carson that what he did really didn't matter. It made him reckless. There were still consequences. He could get hurt, sick, and collapse. But he could never quite make it over the edge and it was driving him crazy.

Carson ran up the stairs to his room and slammed the door shut before his mom even made it into the house. Stripping off his wet clothes he crawled into his bed, feeling the clean sheets against his bare skin. This was the only place he felt safe anymore.

Author's note: These last few chapters have been loosely inspired by my high school experience which I was so depressed for that I barely remember it. If you're wondering why Carson is so depressed there isn't really an answer for that. He's just tired, isolated, and it's a chemical imbalance. He still deals with depression in later stories when he's 27 and does sometimes stay out all night drinking but in contrast to this, he's actually made it to a really good place. He has people in his life, friends, he doesn't feel hated everywhere he goes, and at some point he did get treatment and medication. 


End file.
